atraxia

This thread will be at the place Nemo is currently discovering with Atticus, which I'll call Cerulean Cape! Looks a bit like this except the rock would be one indigenous to the region!

the ocean. this place was truly her home. she had been raised on its shores, had fought in its waters and both fallen and risen as the tide might. to be away from it was a strange thing, but at least she could return. anemone rested upon the cool sands a good distance away from the bitterly cold water, ears swiveling atop her head attentively in case any intruders were about. anemone would come here now and again, walking miles to have her peace. the l'amour had no thoughts of leaving the vale; as long as this place could be visited regularly, she would be content. anemone did not know what she thought of her new life. idle thoughts filled her head, as they often would when narcissus or hawthorne were not around to distract her with the bald face of reality. would she find hawthorne? she was not sure, but she would continue to look. he could not go too far, could he? not hawthorne. of them all, she was the bold one; it would be she who would run hundreds of miles away from home. no, hawthorne ought to be around, else she had missed him already. she pushed herself into a sit, heaving out a heavy sigh, and at last her eyes moved from the waters to survey her surroundings. she had been alone for a while, but anemone knew better than to think that this peace would last forever.

Acclimating to the life of a pack wolf once again was not without its challenges. There were the hours to rise to ensure the borders were marked, as well as seeing to the creation and maintenance of the cache. Still in its infancy, it needed to be nurtured by any and all paws able and willing to see to it. But today, her newly kept course was altered and she sought instead to pursue a scent that had only recently left the Vale. Had her own intentions not been to take a walk of her own, she might have ignored the scent, if not missed it entirely. Hesitantly she moved from the known lands toward the unknown she had been so intimate with days prior. Stepping for the mountain came as a wonderful reminder of what awaited her as a treat in days to come. And while she would have desired to revel, she thought better of it to focus instead on this scent that led away. Hours crept by as snow ebbed away to the grating surface of sand. Rolling shores took the place a frigid scapes and while her fur had only ever felt the frigid touch of ice and snow, the Cape offered a rare warmth in the season. Startling, but not at all unpleasant. And upon the rock littered shore was a shape of lupine design. Grey and isolated, benign and calm as it looked out toward the water perhaps in thought. She remained a short distance from the wolf as she lay, not wanting to completely disturb her, but desired her address just the same. She sang softly in the hopes of turning the grey female's ear.

a song captured her attention. it was a song for her, and she realized that she had been seen. anemone rose, though not with haste, hardly wanting the other to believe she was worried or upset with the attention she received. the feminine note enabled her to know it was neither hawthorne or narcissus... perhaps it was the woman she had joined with? but turning and searching for the source, anemone found that she had been wrong. lifting her head and singing back, the l'amour woman let the other know she could approach if she desired, i am here! she knew well the other clearly would not mind company, but what she did not know was if she desired to join her or was simply saying hello. thus anemone gave her the option, her tail flicking cordially between her legs in a show of friendliness. the wind told her only that the other was a female and also of the vale; anemone seemed all the more at ease.

She would not suffer the wait of the other’s response for too long, though had the contrary been the case, she would have remained none the less diligent. She was a creature bred to be silent and wait, as was her role as of many other females in her prior mountain home. It was a dull existence, but one that had kept her alive until her leave. Now such roles were unnecessary as she embarked on something new. The soft bray of the other led her forward across the sands, head low and ears drawn comfortably back as she eased forward to convey her benign intentions. This was simply an inspection to ascertain the reason for the other female’s leave. Was it simply to watch the rolling waves, she wondered. Or did the female not find the security of the Vale to her liking? Such matter would have been beyond her care had they occurred when her life was bound to the wild. But not now, not when others depended on the few but steady numbers that made their pack. A loss of one for any reason would have affected the whole. When near, she inquired just as softly as her song had been, her eyes peering outward into the churning tides of foam and spray. “Are you not content in the Vale?”

anemone watched the other approach, curious as to why the woman would have left the vale herself. anemone had not the faintest idea that it may have been her to have caused the other woman to stray... the l'amour merely believed it to be that their paths had aligned at the proper time, perhaps because the cinnamon wolf was missing home as well. the thought was heartwarming to anemone, who did not think she would have felt homesick. it was less for home and more for familiarity that anemone ached, and the pang in her stomach was a painful reminder that she was alone here. that is, without the two faces that mirrored her own. the other spoke when she was near enough, her voice soft but clear despite the lolling waves that longed for their own song to be heard. her ears swept backward and her nostrils flared, and then anemone also cast her gaze out to the waters again. i am happy to call the vale my home now, she begins, but i was born in a place much like this... her eyes devour the coastline, the way the tides turn. i thought i might find someone here. and sometimes, a familiar place is as comforting as a familiar face. she divulges this to xi'nuata, shifting her weight some. and what of you?

That familiarity to ‘home’ could be another setting beyond a mountain was ‘strange’ to the woman, if not difficult comprehend. Her world- no, her mind was closed if she could not see beyond the mountains as a comfort, as a home. But such was the way she had been raised. Just as she had been raised not to judge another’s preferences, or they themselves, for that matter. What she cared to know was that the female beside her hadn’t the intention of leaving the Vale when she had only just arrived. And to her relief, it did not appear she desired to, but had wished to find comfort in the waves of home. “I see,” she mused quietly, even if her eyes were truly blind to the notion of this sort of familiarity. As there were no such waves in the vale to watch in the needing hour, it was understandable why the female would take a little walk away. Her tail pat the ground when addressed, informing that she had indeed heard but was thinking. The contemplative countenance was unwavering as she watched the ebb and flow of the tide; the steady rhythm that had she not been anchored by her weight, she might have drifted into the luring waters and been swept off to shores unknown. “I have my shadow,” she confided in but a whisper. “As long as he remains then I am content.”

the other seemed to accept her response. anemone could not think that the other did not understand where she had come from; but perhaps xi'nuata was native to these lands, had been born here. the concept was something anemone did not think of. xi'nuata smelled as she did. of the vale, but hardly. there was the scent of the beta upon xi'nuata, but as the woman confided in her, anemone did not think of him. she could not see that man as a shadow; she saw him as a looming tree, not something that skulked in the darkness. blatantly there. immovable. anemone found her gaze turning toward xi'nuata, licking her chops and not so much as grimacing at the salt crystals that had found their place there. freshwater was not too far, and anemone had grown accustomed to the sand finding its way in inconvenient locations. your shadow, anemone repeats, curious but not pressing. she leaves room for xi'nuata to elaborate if she so desires, and she looks back to the waters. anemone had seen many lose themselves to the waves. body and mind. i have lost my shadows, she murmurs, though there is no pouting in her voice. i have a suspicion that one is near. the other that makes that shadow whole... she wonders. her shadows were her brothers. and she was the moon that obscured that as they were the sun in its changing hours, causing it to stretch, or grow very small. perhaps will come around. her voice made it clear that this was a hope of hers. it is strange how comfortable she feels here. but kei had brought xi'nuata to her for a reason, and anemone trusted that with all she was made of.

Shadows? Her brows drawn back and eyes wide, she looked to Anemone with hardly a regard to her expression of shock. Was it not enough to have a single entity kept to so completely? What force, she wondered, drove this female to possess more than one? It made little sense to her, no different than a male taking on a harem rather than a single, faithful mate. But then, she hardly knew this female at all. For all she knew the meaning of her shadows greatly differed from her own. Though she had to admit, the idea of more than one heeding the call of another was unnerving, and her ears fall back a fraction in worry. To the autumn-hued woman, her shadow was the embodiment of the purpose he had promised her. If he were to be another’s, then… She would not allow herself to slump in dismay, but inched instead to better situate her weight on the shifting sand. Eventually she resigned to lie on her stomach, her forepaws outstretched to glance across the wet sands. “If your sense of them is strong,” she muttered, letting an obsidian claw slip into the sand. “…then surely they are not far off. Eventually a shadow finds its light… It is never truly lost.” Or taken for that matter. Or so she desperately hoped.

do you have such conviction in your own shadow? anemone asks, and seems to recant the question as her gaze moves from xi'nuata to the body of water again. of course she believed in this shadow. it was what kept her. shadows were meant to follow, so it could easily be said anemone herself was a shadow. at last, anemone clarifies her own confusion, her worry, my shadows are my brothers. we are identical, she begins, and continues without prompting, and i have not been without them. perhaps this is what they want. so who was to say that her shadows were drawn to her light...? they were inherently good, her brothers, but that did not mean they would follow her. she had forgotten they were... individuals. but even as she thought in that manner, the thought was discarded. no. they were the same. as xi'nuata lays, anemone thinks to take up the same position. not but a few short minutes ago she was in the same position. the cinnamon woman was a sphinx upon the salty shore; a woman who looked as though she were made for the desert. out of place, yet... not quite. anemone blinked, taken aback by how lovely the other was. her vanity typically disallowed her to acknowledge that others could be lovely, too... but there it was. she did not see her shadows as dark entities; she had slightly misinterpreted the meaning behind xi'nuata's own words, but the sentiment... it remained much the same.

“Of course.” It was without hesitation that she made her reply, having already decided before the query was offered. It was a question she had asked herself many a time before this moment, whether she truly felt that her shadow would find her even parted from his side. It was without romantic inclination, but a notion worth pondering none the less in her times to think. She did fear yes, that despite his words he might find another light to attach himself to, but she believed (she simply had to believe) that regardless he would come back to her if not remain indefinitely by the light she cast for him. And it was with relief that her convictions were solidified by the female’s words. While she had more than one shadow, more than one entity that was bound to her, it was in blood that the relationship was formed; her siblings. Yet another part of communal living she had only delved in for the brief years of her puppyhood. To have those bonds after adulthood was to her, astounding. Turning from the waters to Anemone, her expression thoughtful and true, she wondered just what an identical face might look like on the male form. Of course it meant there would be certain traits mirrored on all forms joined, but were their distinguishing marks? Or was it only sex that they all differentiated. She had never seen an identical group outside of her own siblings, but as her memory of them continued to fade with time and lacking recollection of their faces, she could hardly recall what it was that set them apart aside from their names. But when she looked to her companion, the culmination of light and dark grays spanned along her length, she imagined more of that likeness standing close and strong- a range of the mountains of the Vale and her once had pack. They looked much the same, but with a subtle difference in the dips and rolls of the mountain’s face, not unlike the subtle differences in body and structure. Yet all part of the same thing- the whole. But a range without a sect was incomplete, and all parts felt the void. “I do not believe that is what they want,” her asserting was soft, yet firm. “A shadow will always seek the presence of its light, and the pillars of a mountain are incomplete when void. In time, even the mountains seek to fill this, shifting the earth with slides and turbulent changes until the whole is renewed.” She sighed softly as her nose wrinkled to the scent of salty air. “You need only time and patience.” They both did, for that matter.

the other woman is wise. anemone's eyes seem to brighten at her optimism, and she feels as though she has found a friend in her. it was so easy to talk to her, and easier still to listen. anemone shifts unconsciously closer to her, ears swiveling in case she would say anything else in the meantime. but she does not mind the silence. the waves bring her at peace, and she wonders if xi'nuata enjoys it as well. do you like the sea? she queries innocently, curious, wondering at their differences and similarities. perhaps when the days were warm they could bring the vale fish, a pleasant treat for those who enjoyed the unique taste. it is only then she realizes she does not know the name of the other, and introduces herself: i am anemone... it is a pleasure to meet you, and she falls silent, hoping the other would fill in the blank with her own name.

“I do not.” Her reply was instantaneous and soft, neither disturbed nor insulting- simply a statement of personal preference. The waters were ever changing, lacking the calm stability that came with the mountains. Unless one understood the natural and hectic flow, they would not be able to see the changing waters nor brave them. She commended her companion for finding peace in the disruptive, to see calm in the face of turbulent shifts and swells. But such was not for mountain dweller. She found peace in the horrid, the treacherous yet stable. The constant that imposed not ease but challenge. Perhaps it was why the woman found that face of the Beta most easily in the mountains. Sighing once more to herself, she wrinkled her nose and cast a glance to the female enraptured by the sea. “Xi’nuata,” she pronounced softly, carefully easing into each syllable that it might be committed to memory. She was not personally fond of a community where one’s name was lost to the faces of a growing crowd. Though she did not deny the possible reality of such a thing occurring. Nevertheless, she would do her part to present this insult from coming to pass. “Well met, Anemone.” Falling silent, she returned to sea though with bi-colored eyes closed to the waters but bent her ears forward to hear the songs of the waves instead. And there she would remain poised and listening til her companion was ready to return to the Vale.

The woman's name was lovely. Unique, and lovely. Her tail flicked. It was not peculiar to Anemone that Xi'nuata did not enjoy the waters. Not many did; the sea was as dangerous as it was beautiful. Vainly, Anemone thought the same of herself. She licked her chops and remained at ease for a while longer, content in their silence. Immediately, she decided she liked this woman. For her honesty, her poetic way with words. Her eyes skirt briefly to the cinnamon woman, before she rises to all fours again.

Let us go home, she offers. Anemone did not want to torture the woman with something that displeased her, and so she moves around her and slowly begins to move until Xi'nuata is beside her. Together, they return to the Vale.